


Dean. Drive.

by reigningqueenofwords



Series: You’re Not John [16]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-01-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:33:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22268731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reigningqueenofwords/pseuds/reigningqueenofwords
Series: You’re Not John [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1413136
Kudos: 13





	Dean. Drive.

John got dressed while still on the phone with you. As soon as his phone was in his pocket, he was shoving everything back in his bag. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so scared. Rushing out the door, he moved next door and pounded on the boys’ door.

“Dad?” Dean asked, groggy. “What the _hell_?” He asked, squinting against the street lights. 

“Y/N called.” He said quickly. “She sounds bad, Dean. She’s scared, said she hasn’t kept anything down in two days. Wake up your brother, get your things together. We’re leaving.”

Dean blinked the sleep from his eyes. “Yeah. Meet you at the car.”

* * *

“So, where’s she at?” Dean asked when they hit the highway.

“Right outside Georgia. Her motel information is on that paper. We’ll drive in shifts.” John said firmly. “It’s a 30 hour drive.”

“ _Shit_.” Sam breathed out. “Think she’ll be okay until then?”

John glanced in the rear view mirror. “It won’t take us no 30 hours to get there, Sam.” Not with him and Dean driving. “I told her to keep sipping water so she doesn’t get dehydrated. It’s about 4:30 in the morning there now. I’ll have Dean call her about nine to check on her.”

* * *

When your phone rang, you didn’t even open your eyes to pick it up. “ _Hello_?” You moved to lay on your back, your hand on your rib cage.

“Y/N?”

“Hi, Dean.” You yawned.

“We’re on our way, don’t worry. Okay?” He said gently. “We’re about to hit Tucson. He’s shaved about half an hour off so far. No telling how much faster he’ll go, though.” Dean glanced at his father. “You’ve had us worried.”

You sighed. “I’m sorry.”

He went to open his mouth and heard you drop the phone and then movement. Once he heard what he assumed was you throwing up, he made a face and sighed, trying to block it out while he waited to see if you picked the phone back up. “Sweet heart?” He asked when he heard water, and then the phone be picked back up.

“Yeah?”

“Call 911 if you feel any worse, okay? Don’t try to push through it.” Although his tone was caring, it was also stern.

“Sure thing, Dean.”

* * *

After you hung up, you got up and made your way to the mini-fridge to get a cold bottle of water. The last thing you wanted was to call 911. Taking a sip, you sighed. You still felt like you’d throw up at any minute, and you were miserable. You made your way to your dresser and changed into a pair of boxers and a tank top, hoping that cooling off would help a bit.

You were sitting on the motel bed, relaxing, when you were hit with it again. Rushing back to the bathroom, you wanted to cry. Leaning against the wall, you sniffled. If it was something like the stomach flu, it would pass soon, right?

* * *

The next time your phone rang, it was Sam calling. “You don’t have to call me every five minutes, guys.” It was the first thing out of your mouth.

“It’s been like four _hours_.” Sam pointed out, obviously not bothered by it.

“Oh.” You half chuckled. “I must have fallen back asleep.”

“We just passed Las Cruces, Mew Mexico.” He informed you.

* * *

John tried calling you a few hours later, with no luck. Sam was sleeping in the back, but Dean was awake. He saw his father’s jaw clench. “Maybe she’s in the shower?” It sounded fake even to his own ears, but he had to try. You meant a lot to all three of them.

As the time passed, all three of them kept trying.

* * *

At 10:30 the next morning, John was standing in front of you motel door, knocking. "Y/N?“ He called out. Not hearing anything, he was suddenly thankful that this small southern town hadn’t upgraded to digital key cards just yet. Before he had a chance to even pull out his lock pick kit, Dean was on it. Hearing the click, he rushed in, boys behind him. The bathroom door was cracked and he rushed in. “Sweet heart?” He paled, kneeling next to you. Lifting you in his arms, he gently carried you to the car. “Dean. _Drive_.” He climbed in back with you, hoping that you’d be okay. 

Dean tore through town, following the signs for the hospital. “She’ll be fine, Dad. She’ll be fine.” It was to reassure himself, as well. Sam sat sideways in the front, his eyes on your pale face.

As soon as they reached the hospital, John rushed you in. “We need help here.” He told the receptionist. Within minutes, there were a flurry of people, and you were rushed away on a stretcher. John and the boys were told they would need to stay in the waiting room.

* * *

Finally, once you were stable, John was allowed back. Sam and Dean went to get a couple motel rooms and crash. He promised to call them when you woke up. Your hand was in his when the doctor came in. “Mr. Winchester?” She asked.

“Yeah?” He breathed, and it was clear he had been crying.

She gave him a kind smile. “She simply has a case of hyperemesis gravidarum.” He furrowed his brows. “It _should_ subside in about five to seven weeks. Sometimes it persists the whole pregnancy.” His face fell. “We’ll keep her on IVs for a couple days, and once she’s stable, we’ll release her. We’ll prescribe her some anti-nausea medication, but the baby is just _fine_. Developing perfectly for a 12 week fetus.” She smiled.

“… ** _Baby_**?”


End file.
